


Our Story Told Through Molded Plastic

by Avocados-in-Love (Zorro_sci)



Category: Daredevil (Netflix)
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Matt is the man without fear . . .unless Foggy is in danger, Matt's POV, Mentions of Violence, Non Season 2 Compliant, Pining Matt, There had to be angst; it's Matt Murdock, anonymous gift giving, but nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zorro_sci/pseuds/Avocados-in-Love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Other people see toy dinosaurs, but Matt knows better.  He knows that they're so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Family Dinosaurs

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be a drabble to fill the "tiny dinosaurs" prompt on my Daredevil bingo card. Well, it will still fill that spot, but it's become more of an epic than a drabble. Oh well.
> 
> For those who are curious, my bing card looks as follows:
> 
> tiny dinosaurs  |  lightweight  |  more than a partner to me  |  misunderstanding  |  kidfic   
> ---|---|---|---|---  
> red suit  |  Nelson and Murdock  |  I never meant to hurt you  |  innocent until proven guilty  |  glass jaw   
> serve and protect  |  taken in for questioning  |  WILD  
>  ★  
>  CARD  |  crime  |  Spider-Man dressed up as DD   
> consecrate  |  Lent  |  restitution  |  negligence test  |  on the mat   
> The Man Without Fear  |  take your shot  |  California  |  amnesia  |  no comment   
  
"You go here, and you go here, and you can go right here," Matt's new roommate, Foggy, said to himself as he arranged something on his desk.

Whatever he was arranging sounded pretty small based on the soft noise they made when he set them down, and they smelled strongly of cheap plastic.

"Ooops! I almost forgot you, Terry! You can go right next to Sara."

"Terry? Sara? What are you doing?" Matt asked, his curiosity piqued by the strange running commentary.

"I'm arranging my dinosaurs," Foggy responded, as if that were a perfectly normal answer, (then again, he chose to call himself Foggy, so maybe in his mind it was).

"Your dinosaurs?"

"Yeah, my little cousin Joey gave me a tiny, plastic dinosaur for my eighteenth birthday. He thinks I'm the cool cousin because I'm always play with him and the other kids at family gatherings, so he went to the dollar store and bought this little Pterodactyl figurine. He said it was the perfect gift, because dinosaurs are cool and really old, and apparently I'm ancient now that I'm a legal adult."

Matt chuckled.

"Anyway, my family thought that was hilarious, so my parents and all my aunts and uncles each gave me a little dinosaur figure and notecard of advice 'from the family dinosaurs' when I graduated from high school."

"That's really sweet."

Matt felt a brief stab of jealousy. There had been no one to wish him well when he finished high school except a few of the nuns that had liked him, but it wouldn't do to dwell on what he didn't have.

"And dorky, but that's the Nelson clan for you.

You'll see for yourself soon enough. I highly doubt they'll be able to stay away."

Matt chuckled again, thinking that maybe meeting whoever raised the strange but friendly man he found himself sharing a dorm with might not be so bad.

~~~~~~

Over the next few months, Matt and Foggy became fast friends. His roommate was effervescent and warm like sunshine, even with all his awkwardness, and it was impossible to resist his charms.

Furthermore, he seemed to truly care about the people around him. He was considerate about Matt's blindness, but didn't treat him like he was broken or made of glass. He meant it when he asked people how they were doing, and was willing to sit and listen if they didn't have a positive response. It seemed like he was always going out of his way to help other students, and he always did it so cheerfully.

It was that combination of caring and charm that led to Matt spending Thanksgiving with the Nelsons. He had originally been planning to spend the brief break alone in the dorms, but Foggy had insisted, claiming that his mother always cooked enough for an army and would skin him alive if she found out he left his roommate alone in the dorms.

Matt had been hesitant. Everything he knew about the Nelsons pointed to holiday meals being noisy affairs that would likely overwhelm his senses, but in the end he was glad he went. It had been a while since he had had a home cooked meal, and even though they were noisy, most of Foggy's family were as kind and welcoming as he was.

Foggy was met with no resistance when he asked Matt to come home with him for Christmas. The whole thing was bittersweet, since it was the first time he had truly celebrated Christmas with anything more than midnight mass since his father had died, but Foggy seemed to sense he was having a hard time. He made it easy.

Without Matt ever saying a word, Foggy seemed to know what he needed. He served as buffer when things got too overwhelming. He changed the subject when Matt got uncomfortable, and he knew when Matt needed him to be close, and when he needed him to back away. 

Matt spent the entirety of winter break with the Nelsons, getting to know them and Foggy really well in the process. He especially learned a lot while crammed onto a twin bed with Foggy at night. They had decided they would rather share the small bed than take turns sleeping on the floor, but the tight sleeping quarters meant they did more talking then sleeping, and the dark seemed to draw truths out of both of them they might never have otherwise admitted.

By the time they returned to their dorm in January, Matt felt like he'd known Foggy his whole life. . . Oh yeah, and he might have been a little in love with him. Not that he was about to admit that anytime soon. Foggy was the first real friend he had ever had, and he wasn't going to risk that over a little crush.


	2. Tiny Yellow T-Rex

Something was wrong. Foggy was moving slower, his voice lacked its normal cheer, and the smell of sadness and frustration was coming off of him in waves. Even his heartbeat seemed weighed down and heavy, as made his way into their mid-morning class.

Matt didn't know what to do. He asked Foggy if he was okay as he took his seat, but he claimed to be fine. However, it was clear he wasn't fine. 

Hoping it would pass, Matt let it go, but Foggy didn't seem any better off at lunch, or when he met him in the library to study that afternoon. Yet each and every time he maintained that nothing was wrong.

Whatever was bothering his friend wasn't resolving itself, so when Foggy left for his evening class, Matt determined that he was going to do something to cheer Foggy up. He couldn't just ignore him when he was miserable. He had to do something. The question was what. What would make Foggy feel better?

For some reason, Matt thought of the plastic dinosaurs lined up on Foggy's desk. The small toys were frequently handled when Foggy was stressed over an assignment for class. Picked up and squeezed tightly in a hand, rolled from one hand to the other, or simply rearranged them on the desk. They acted like little stress relievers, always leaving Foggy calmer afterward.

Maybe another dinosaur would be just what he needed. It would certainly be within Matt's extremely limited price range, even with bus fare considered, and it was worth a shot right? 

With that in mind, he found himself in the nearest dollar store, asking one of the employees to help him pick out the brightest colored dinosaur they could find.

"This one is bright yellow. Is that what you had in mind?" she asked, handing him the toy for him to inspect it.

It was a miniature Tyrannosaurs Rex. It felt well formed, unlike some of the others that had extra little globs of plastic from where they had overfilled the mold, and different from any of Foggy's other dinosaurs. Plus, if the employee was telling the truth, (and her heartbeat had stayed steady through her description), it was a bright, sunny yellow. Exactly the type of thing Matt was looking for.

"Yes, this will work."

Ten minutes later, he left with the tiny toy carefully wrapped in a small bag, complete with a short message that the employee had agreed to write on the gift tag for him; (his abilities allowed him to do many things, but his handwriting was still nearly illegible, so he was grateful for her help). 

The short note was anonymous, because partway through dictating it, he had suddenly become afraid that the gesture might show too much of his hand. He didn't regret the gift, but what if Foggy realized just how much Matt cared, and that it wasn't entirely in a 'just-friends' way? Would things get awkward between them? He wasn't willing to risk it.

He returned to his dorm, barely ten minutes before Foggy was due back from class, and hung the small gift on the door knob outside of their room. Then he went inside and pretended to study, but really all he his senses were focused on waiting for Foggy's arrival.

What seemed like an eternity later, he heard Foggy's footfalls stop in front of the door. Then he heard the rustle of the bag, followed by a faint surprised sound somewhere between a gasp and a chuckle.

The door knob turned, and Foggy walked into the room, a little of his old bounce back in his step. He made his way directly over to his desk, and carefully added the new dinosaur to the little plastic herd, and then turned to Matt.

"Matt, did anyone come by the room earlier this evening?" 

"Not that I know of. Why?"

He knew exactly why Foggy was asking, but he wasn't about to tell him that.

"Someone left a gift bag on the door. Are you sure they didn't try knocking or anything?"

"No, no one knocked."

It wasn't a lie, but Matt knew what Foggy was really asking, so it wasn't the whole truth either.

"Huh."

"What was in the bag?"

Yep, Matt just had to tempt fate. He knew he might give himself away, but he really wanted to know how his gift was received. Everything pointed to Foggy at least not hating it, but he wanted to be sure.

"It's a tiny, plastic T-Rex. Sort of like my other dinosaurs, but really bright yellow, like a lemon or a cartoon sun.

I actually thought that the bag might be for you, you know with all of your girlfriends . . . ."

(Matt winced internally. Yes, there were lots of girls on campus who flirted with him, and tried to get his attention, but they never got very far. Despite what Foggy thought, he never took them up on their offers. How could he, when his heart so completely belonged to someone else?)

" . . .but it had a little tag with my name on it, and a note that said 'I'm sorry you're having a bad day. I hope this helps bring a smile to your face.'

The thing is, I have kinda had a lousy day, but I didn't think anyone had noticed. It's really nice to know someone cared. . . ."

Foggy's voice trailed off, and then Matt could hear a grin overtaking his face.

"Plus, I'm serious Matt, this thing is so bright you almost need sunglasses. I think it's pretty much impossible to look at it, and not smile at least a little."

Warmth spread through Matt's chest. He'd accomplished his goal, but he didn't let himself bask in that for long. 

Foggy had admitted he'd had a bad day. Maybe he would finally be willing to tell him what was going on.

After a little prodding, Matt discovered that another student had been bullying Foggy. At first, Foggy had tried to ignore it, but it was getting worse. 

Earlier that morning, he'd tripped Foggy, and then poured coffee on him, minutes before he was supposed to be across campus for class. Slightly burned, (thankfully the coffee hadn't been able to maintain full heat against the February cold, so his skin was only slightly irritated and red where the coffee had made contact), and unwilling to face the winter chill in his wet clothes, Foggy had return to their dorm to dry off and change. Then, he had sprinted to his class as quickly as he could, only to find that the door was already locked. His civics professor was incredibly strict, and refused to allow late arrivals into his class. All of which meant, that Foggy was going to lose credit for the day's lecture.

Frustrated, but with nothing else to do, Foggy had decided to wash his coffee-soaked clothes before the stain set. He'd put them in the wash before he headed to his ten-thirty class, but when he returned after lunch, instead of finding them in the machine, or placed carefully in the basket he had left on top of the washer in case someone else wanted to use it, he found them strewn across the laundry room. 

The clothes had been run through the dryer on the highest heat setting, so they had shrunk. Something his tormentor took a lot of pleasure in telling him when he saw him later that afternoon, and taunted him about being too fat to fit into his clothes.

Finally having had enough, Foggy went to file a complaint, only to find that his harasser worked as a student employee in the very office he would need to make his complaint with. The other student had threatened him, should he ever see him in that office again, and Foggy was left unsure of what to do.

Matt's fists clenched tighter under his desk, and anger thrummed through his veins. This couldn't stand. No one should be allowed to get away with this, especially not with Foggy.

For the next couple of days, Matt used what he had learned to try to identify Foggy's attacker. Then, once he knew his identity, he sneaked up on him when he was alone in a parking lot one night.

He pushed him hard against the side of his car while he was unlocking the door, and then repeated the gesture a few times, just to get his attention.

"What's wrong with you, man?" he asked, trying to crane his head to see who was behind him.

"You're going to leave Foggy Nelson alone!" Matt growled, as he reached up to pin his head in a forward position.

"Why do you care what I do to that loser?! What's he to you?"

Matt bashed his head against the roof of his car a couple of times.

"I said, you're going to leave Foggy Nelson alone!"

"Okay, okay! I hear you. I'll leave him alone."

"See that you do, or our next meeting will be far less pleasant."

The coward actually kept his word, and Matt couldn't help but feel a glimmer of satisfaction. No one was ever going to mess with Foggy as long as he was around.


	3. A Tradition of Dino-giving

Spring semester continued, and the month of April brought Foggy's birthday.

Foggy had insisted on making a big fuss out of Matt's birthday earlier in the year. He had awoken him with coffee and a cinnamon roll from his favorite bakery, and gone on to present him with a birthday cupcake and a small gift later in the day. Then, later that night, they huddled together in front of Foggy's laptop as he narrated a movie of Matt's choice, (and if Matt enjoyed their closeness as much or more than the movie, no one ever needed to know).

It had been the first time he had really celebrated his birthday since he had turned ten, and Foggy had gone out of his way to make the day special. There was no way Matt could let Foggy's birthday pass by unacknowledged. He just didn't know what to do.

He decided to start by looking for a gift for Foggy. Funds were tight, but he figured he could find something at the discount store.

Matt's search turned up an acceptable gift, but what really caught his attention, was a container of little plastic dinosaurs near the front of the store. He smiled to himself as he thought of Sunny, (as Foggy had named the tiny T-Rex), and the way Foggy quietly muttered to it and the other dinosaurs as he studied. The unexpected gift had achieved so much more than Matt had ever hoped.

With that in mind, Matt left the store with the gift he had picked out, and a tiny tub filled with a couple dozen little dinosaurs. He figured it couldn't hurt to have them on hand. Not when such a small thing could bring Foggy so much joy.

When Foggy's birthday came, Matt made him breakfast on their slightly-less-than-allowed hot plate, and gave him what he had picked up at the discount store. Then, later that afternoon, one of the little dinosaurs from the bin was left anonymously in front of their dorm room door, wearing a tiny birthday crown that Matt had made from some scrap paper from the always over-flowing computer lab paper recycling.

Foggy had chuckled, and described the little, red stegosaurus to Matt, before adding it to his collection.

~~~~~

It became tradition. Sophomore, junior and senior year a little dinosaur in a crown waited for Foggy outside their door on his birthday. Each year, Foggy picked it up gently, and happily described it to Matt, before adding it to the growing group on his desk.

The tiny herd also had a 'get well' hadrosaur from when Foggy got mononucleosis their sophomore year, a 'you can do it!' brontosaurus from finals week of the spring semester of their junior year, when Foggy had been taking an overload of classes and was convinced he was going to fail (but still managed to do no worse than a B on any of his finals), and a 'congratulations!' pterodactyl from when Foggy found out he had been accepted into Columbia law.

By the time they finished their undergrad program, the number of dinosaurs he had from Matt outnumbered those from his family, but Matt wasn't done.

The day of their graduation, Matt pretended to forget something in the room, and headed back without Foggy, (which was harder than he had planned, since Foggy had nearly insisted that he go back with him). Then, he had taken the little dinosaur he had prepared for the occasion, and carefully placed it in front of the door. Finally ready, he made his way to their graduation, smiling to himself as he thought about what Foggy's reaction would be when he found it.

Foggy didn't disappoint. When they returned to their dorm after all the festivities were over, (which was quite late, since Foggy's family had insisted on taking them out to celebrate), he gasped softly as he picked up the small, plastic toy.

"Matt, this is the cutest thing ever. It's a green triceratops, wearing a little white graduation cap made out of paper, and it has a tiny, little rolled up diploma rubber banded onto its front, right leg.

The only problem is, it still doesn't say who it's from. I mean, none of them did, but I thought maybe now that we're graduating the secret dinosaur-giver would reveal their identity. What do they have to lose? Unless they're moving on to law school with us, it's not that likely I'll ever see them again.

It would have been nice to know, but I guess you're not suppose to look a gift dinosaur in the mouth, right? It'll just be one of life's mysteries."

Matt hummed in agreement, but his mind was elsewhere. Foggy was right, if he continued his dino-giving, the field of possible givers would be narrowed considerably. Foggy might even be able to guess that he was behind it. 

He still had no intention of stopping. They made Foggy too happy for him to ever want to stop. Besides, at some point he had started thinking of the dinosaurs as his way of saying 'I love you.' 

He couldn't say the words aloud, but he could help commemorate the good times and the bad times with Foggy with little pieces of molded plastic that never failed to brighten Foggy's day, and it was enough. Well, it wasn't, but it was all he was going to get, and maybe all he deserved. After all, he still hadn't told Foggy about his senses, and as long as he was keeping secrets, it wouldn't be fair to ask for more.


	4. The tradition continues

At least a dozen of their classmates from Columbia's pre-law program continued on to law school with them, so Matt decided he probably wasn't in danger of being discovered. At least that's what he told himself as he placed Foggy's coronated birthday dinosaur in front of their door. Besides, it was tradition. A little, molded plastic reminder that he and Foggy had spent another year together.

The birthday dinosaurs were in a row all of their own on Foggy's desk, and when Foggy wasn't there, Matt would gently run his fingers over them. He'd feel each horn and spike, and wonder how it was possible that five short years ago, he hadn't even known Foggy. It seemed like he had known him all his life, and he didn't want to think about what his future would be like without him.

They were Maverick and Goose. Okay, maybe Matt had kept a secret or two, but they were that inseparable. Plus, Goose wasn't going to die in their story, and maybe, just maybe, one day he would marry Maverick, (although Foggy's girlfriend Marci had become far too steady a presence in their lives for Matt's liking).

Foggy received the gift with the same joy he always did. He described the new addition with a chuckle, and then proudly displayed it with the others. He did the same with the other pair of birthday dinosaurs, the pair of 'hope your day gets better' dinosaurs, and the law school graduation dinosaur that joined the ranks of Foggy's dinosaur army before they left law school. As well as the 'congratulations on your internship' T-Rex and the 'hooray you passed the bar!' brontosaurus.

In fact, by the time Matt and Foggy started their internship at Landman & Zack, the tiny figurines were so numerous that Foggy broke them into two groups. One that he kept on his desk, and another that he placed carefully on the divider between their desks in their office/filing closet. Matt could think of no better place for them. No space shared with Foggy would be complete without his dinosaurs.

~~~~~

Matt knew he was tempting fate by giving Foggy a dinosaur congratulating him on their new practice. There were only so many people who knew about the newly formed Nelson & Murdock, but he hoped sending it in the mail might help keep his secret. After all, Foggy was the type to share good news, and so were his family members, so news of their new firm had probably spread a lot further than he realized.

Then again, the number of people who could have pulled off leaving last April's birthday dinosaur on his desk chair at Landman & Zack were already pretty limited, but Foggy had never asked Matt if it was him. A fact which Matt had never thought about, until Foggy was adding the new congratulatory dinosaur to the recently unpacked group on his desk.

"I'm surprised Marci bothered to send me another dinosaur after we broke up. 

Then again, maybe the 'good luck with your practice' note was meant sarcastically. I don't think she'd be beyond that," he commented as he rearranged the plastic figures to fit more neatly on his desk.

"You think that Marci is the one who was sending the dinosaurs?" Matt asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

"Well, who else? I mean, the only people who we've known since freshman year of undergrad, that went to law school with us, and then interned at Landman & Zack with us, are Marci and that one guy. What's his name? Bill or something? 

See, I don't even know his name! It would be really weird if he were the one behind this whole thing. You'd think he would have at least tried to have a conversation with me that lasted more than two minutes if he cared enough to leave me little dino-messages.

It has to be Marci!"

 _What about me?_ Matt thought. _You keep saying 'we,' but it seems like you never even considered the possibility it could be me._

"I don't know. She doesn't strike me as the type. I mean, we're talking about little toy dinosaurs. Several of which were dressed up. Do you really think Marci would have the time for that?" Matt countered.

 _What are you doing? Are you trying to tell him it was you?!_ a voice questioned in the back of his head, but he couldn't stop himself. The idea that Foggy thought Marci had been behind _his_ secret declarations of love was maddening. It wasn't that he needed Foggy to know that it was him, it was just . . Marci! 

Foggy thought she was out of his league, but in reality _he_ was far too good for _her_. ( _He's too good for you too . . but at least you know that. I not so sure she does._ ). She was way too self absorbed, and never even _tried_ to give anything back to Foggy other than sex; even though he would have given himself wholly to her if she had let him. ( _Why didn't she take him up on it? If he had offered his full devotion to me . . . ._ ). No, not Marci. Anyone but her.

"Look, I know you two never got along, but she has a soft side under her cold, scaly exterior. Besides, they were all sent anonymously. Being sentimental with plausible deniability? That has Marci written all over it," Foggy responded.

Matt was about to protest, and tell him the truth, but as he went to open his mouth he pulled the healing cut on his lower lip. 

Right, he had almost forgotten . . . 

He had yet another secret from Foggy now, and it was one that might get him hurt, arrested, or even killed, if he knew the truth. He was no good for Foggy. He could love him from afar, but he could never be his. Maybe it was better if Foggy continued to think that Marci was the one behind the sentimental trinkets.


	5. Boom!

Things in Matt's nightlife escalated far too quickly. One day he was telling an abusive father to leave his daughter alone, then suddenly he had made enemies with the Russian mob. He wasn't sure how it had come to this, just that he had no choice but to fight the injustice in front him. It was the only way the city would be safe.

Only, the city blew up instead. Maybe as many as half a dozen bombs set Hell's Kitchen alight, and Matt found himself in the thick of it. Accused as the bomber, thought to have taken hostages.

He somehow managed to escape, but he found no peace when he got home. Only twenty missed calls, and several frantic messages from Foggy and Karen, one of which made his blood run cold.

"Matt? This is Karen. I hope you just turned your phone off or the battery went dead, or something like that. Foggy's worried sick.

We're at MetroGeneral with Elena . . .and Foggy wouldn't want me to tell you this, but he got hurt, and . . .

 _Ma'am, you can't be using your phone here_. . ."

And what? Matt's heart raced as he considered possible endings to that sentence.

Foggy was hurt. He'd probably been injured in the bombing, but how bad was it? Was he okay? Was he still at the hospital, or was it minor enough that he had been sent home?

Matt briefly considered just vaulting back out of the window, without even bothering to change. Putting on something else would take time that he should be with Foggy. Then again, everyone was looking for him. They thought he set off the bombs, and going out in the mask could easily lead to his arrest.

With that in mind, Matt quickly stripped off his vigilante gear, and went to shove it back in the trunk filled with his dad's things. 

When he opened the lid, he stumbled across the small tub that he kept stocked with dinosaurs. 

Without even thinking, he grabbed one and squeezed it tightly in his hand. Then he set in on the floor next to trunk as he quickly packed all evidence of his nightlife away.

Ten minutes later, (which was ten minutes too many in his opinion), he was dressed and on his way to MetroGeneral with the small dinosaur tucked safely in the hand not carrying his cane.

He figured he would try the hospital first, and if Foggy (hopefully) wasn't there, he would go by his apartment. However, any hopes he had that Foggy had already been released faded as he walked through the front doors of the hospital.

There was chaos from the influx of bombing victims, but above the hurried din, Matt heard Foggy's slow and heavy, drugged heartbeat. The good news was he was alive. The bad news was, whatever had happened to him had apparently required them to give him what appeared to be a fairly strong dose of pain medication, if his artificially slowed heartbeat was anything to go by.

He followed the crawling thump to a room where three beds occupied the space usually filled by two, and curtain dividers had been rigged to give the illusion of privacy. In the bed furthest from the door, he found Foggy, sleeping the deep sleep of the heavily drugged.

The faint smell of blood lingered on him, especially on his right side. He could also smell antiseptic, suture thread, and antibiotics. All of which painted a pretty clear picture. 

Foggy had clearly had some sort of shrapnel pierce his side, and the strength of the antibiotic seemed to indicate there were still pieces in the wound that they had had to removed before they closed it.

Everything considered, it was a fairly superficial wound. From what Matt could tell, it hadn't touched any of Foggy's internal organs, and he wasn't bleeding internally. Neither of which were givens, considering something had been lodged in his side. 

It could have been so much worse. Scenarios involving massive internal bleeding, punctured lungs or pierced livers ran through his head. 

_Calm down,_ he told himself. _Foggy will be fine. They'll probably release him first thing in the morning_ . . . .but the whole situation was still wrong.

Foggy was supposed to be safe. Matt was the one who put himself in danger. Matt was the one who was fighting in the streets. Matt was the one facing down criminals every night, but he did it so that people like Foggy wouldn't have to. So that they could be safe. So that the city could be a better place.

Matt sighed, but realized there was little he could do. Foggy would be fine, but he would probably sleep until morning. Nothing Matt did or didn't do would change that.

So, he set the dinosaur next to Foggy's hand on the bed, and the turned on his heel and left.

~~~~~

Matt figured he pretty much gave the game away when he left the dinosaur with Foggy in the hospital. Even if he had never considered Matt before, he'd have to know he was the only one who would have known to come the hospital other than Karen. He was going to figure it out, but Matt found he was surprisingly okay with it.

If Foggy's night in the hospital had taught him anything, it was that nothing was certain. Matt could lie to try to protect him all he wanted, it could still end in Foggy being hurt. At least if Foggy knew the truth, he would have a choice about what he wanted to do.

Yes, he was going to tell him everything. He'd tell him about his senses, he'd tell him about Stick and his training, and why his nights were suddenly busy, and he'd tell him what each little dinosaur he'd left for him had meant. Then, he'd let Foggy make his choice. (And hope that his choice wasn't to leave Matt forever.)

The problem was, Foggy didn't seem all that concerned about the gift Matt had left for him. He brought it into the office, but didn't mention it. He didn't describe it for Matt, like he usually did when he added to his collection. He just plopped it down haphazardly with the others. In fact, he put it down so hard, he knocked over several of the other dinosaurs, but seemed not to notice.

Foggy seemed angry and distracted, and the reason quickly became clear. He was preoccupied by the man in the black mask, and according to his several minutes long rant, he hated him. He hated him enough, that he was threatening to beat him with a baseball bat if he ever saw him, even over Karen's protests that there had to be a mistake.

Matt's stomach twisted. Foggy was never violent. He was sweet, and sunny, and he saw the good in everyone, but he had nothing but harsh words for the man in black. Nothing but hate for Matt's alter ego.

In the face of that anger, Matt couldn't admit that he was the man in black. Foggy would hate him. Foggy would leave, and never come back, and Matt wasn't sure he could face that.

He needed Foggy in his life, so he would have to content himself with what he had. They could be friends, they could be business partners, but they could never be more, because Matt could never tell him the truth. If he told him the truth, he would lose everything


	6. Secrets Revealed

Matt should have known that he couldn't hide forever. The truth always came out, but he had somehow convinced himself that Foggy would never know, and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. He'd kept his senses secret for nearly ten years, and nothing catastrophic had happened. Why not this too?

The why ended up being a nearly fatal fight with a ninja, and a chance visit from Foggy that was fortunate, because it saved his life, and also very unfortunate, because it caused Foggy to learn his secret in the worst possible way.

Over the next twenty-four hours, when Matt wasn't delirious with pain or sleeping, he and Foggy fought, screamed, and cried. It was one of the worst days of Matt's life. Only outdone by the day his dad had died.

Foggy was furious. He screamed at Matt for lying to him, he flipped him off, and he asked him if he had actually done the things they accused him of.

"What do I know about Matt Murdock?" he accused.

The words were angry, but there was something else underneath them. They were covering a deep hurt, that became more and more evident as their argument continued.

It seemed that more than anything, Foggy felt betrayed. He couldn't understand why Matt wouldn't trust him, after all they had been through together. He didn't understand how Matt could hold back entire parts of his life.

Matt tried to explain, but he only made things worse. He only set Foggy's heart racing faster with anger and fear. He only filled the air with the salt of Foggy's tears, and desperate, broken questions asking if anything between them was ever real. He had shattered the heart of the one person he loved most in the world, and he couldn't put it back together. He couldn't fix this.

All he could do was be completely honest, and hope that Foggy could forgive him, so he gave him full access. He let him ask whatever he wanted, and answered his questions truthfully. He let him into the closet under the stairs that he locked the world out of, and he let him dig through the trunk where he kept his most treasured, and his most secret, possessions.

Even as angry as he was, Foggy was gentle with his dad's things. He handled them reverently, and carefully put them away just as he found them. Then he moved to the lower layer, and dug through his vigilante gear far less carefully, taking more than one sarcastic jab at it. 

He was about to repack the trunk, when something seemed to grab his attention. His breath caught, and his heart started to race. Something shifted with a series of soft, muted thuds as he lifted it out of the old trunk.

"Are these . . . ." he started, holding up a small, plastic tub half-filled with cheap plastic. "It was you. The dinosaurs. It was you, all along."

Matt nodded.

"I thought it might have been, after what happened at the hospital, but I had ruled you out years ago.

The first time. The time with the yellow T-Rex, you said you didn't know who it was from, and I believed you.

Why would you lie?"

"You ask me if anyone came by, or if anyone knocked. Saying that no one did wasn't exactly a lie."

"You knew damn well what I meant, Murdock, and you purposefully misled me!

Why?! Why wouldn't you tell me they were from you?! 

Did you think it was funny to hear me guess who they were from?! Was it some sort of game to see how long it would take me to figure it out? Did it entertain you that I was never smart enough to put the pieces together?!"

"What? Foggy, no!

I would never toy with you like that!"

"Really?! Because you did!

You lied to me for almost a decade! You led me along, and let me believe lie after lie; all while knowing ever single lie I ever told you, and as you would know, there weren't very many!

You pretended you needed me, and played along when I tried to hide the one secret I ever kept from you. How can you say you never toyed with me?!"

"Foggy, I do need you! I may not need you to lead me around, or help me find things, but I do need you.

You're the best thing in my life. There's no one else I'd want by my side, for better or for worse."

"And now you're mocking me! As if lying to me wasn't enough! 

It's one thing to know that you knew how much I loved you all this time, and just pretended not to know. It's an entirely different thing to have it used against me. . . .you really are an asshole."

"What?! Foggy, I didn't know. I never knew . . ."

"It's a little late to feign ignorance now, Murdock. You said you could hear my heartbeat. That you knew when I was lying.

There's no way you knew all that, and didn't know that I was never joking when I talked about kissing you, or marrying you, or spending the rest of my life with you. You had to have known I meant it."

"I . . . I . . ."

"Save it, you clearly never cared about me, or you never would have knowingly led me on for all these years."

"Foggy . . ."

He was answered by retreating footsteps, moving purposefully toward the door.

"Foggy! Foggy!" he tried more frantically, but the only response he got was the click of the door as Foggy shut it behind him.


	7. Binning the Messenger

"I got your note," Foggy commented from behind him. 

Matt almost missed the bag with his next punch, surprised by the other man's presence. He hadn't expected anyone to show up at Fogwell's. Least of all Foggy, who had been avoiding him for the better part of a week. Tensions had been high between them, which was the whole reason he was there in the first place, hoping to punch out some of his frustration.

"I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing," Matt said honestly.

"Not even with your super senses?!" Foggy snapped.

Matt winced.

"Sorry . . ." Foggy whispered, softly clearing his throat.

Foggy was nervous. Matt could smell the sweat on his palms, and hear his slightly faster than normal heart rate. The question was, was his nervousness because he came to tell Matt off, or because he came to forgive him?

"Well, your little dinosaur messenger almost ended up in the trash; with all its little friends. So I would say my initial reaction wasn't very good."

Matt frowned at the thought of Foggy throwing away nearly ten year's worth of little plastic trinkets. Sure the toys were cheap, and a little silly even, but each one represented some special event from their life together. The thought of the reminders of that shared time just being thrown away hurt.

Then again, Foggy said 'almost.' Maybe there was still reason to hope.

"Almost?" Matt prompted.

"Alright, I _did_ throw it away . . .Just into the metal trash can next to my desk. Then, I was about to push all of the others you gave me in after it, but I couldn't. 

I looked at them and I thought about little birthday crowns, and graduating from Columbia with you, and passing the bar, and brightly colored dinosaurs waiting for me after a bad day, and I realized I couldn't erase any of that by getting rid of little hunks of plastic . . .and that quite frankly, I don't want to erase those memories.

I might see what happened between us in a different light now, but you've been a part of my life for almost a decade, Matt. We've been through so much together, and not all of it could have been a lie . . .You were my best friend. That has to mean something.

So, I fished your 'I'm sorry' dinosaur out of the trash, and decided to come here, because we need to talk."

 _Not all of it could have been a lie._ _You were my best friend._ **_Were._** Matt tried not to wince as the words sunk in.

"Talk about what?"

"Us. What we are."

"What are we?"

"I don't know. 

All I know, is that the idea of you not being in my life makes me feel sick, but you hurt me worse than I think anyone ever has. You let me think I knew you completely, all while you held back this huge part of your life.

I trusted you, and you took advantage of that. You used that trust to keep me in the dark about something that had the potential to hurt one or both of us, or end our career. 

You made so many decisions for both of us, without even letting me know there were decisions to be made.

Look, I care about you, a lot. I want you in my life, but I'm scared about what that might mean. I'm afraid that keeping you in my life is just going to break my heart all over again, and I don't think I can trust you. Not right now. 

That's something we're going to have to work to rebuild between us. . . .if we decide to try to save our relationship at all."

"Foggy, I'm so sorry that I hurt you. Believe me when I say that was never my intention.

I was just a fool. I thought that by not telling you, I was keeping you safe, but I should have realized I was just setting you up to get hurt. 

I'm sorry. I realize I broke the trust between us, and I know I'll have earn it back, but I'm going to do my best.

Please don't give up on us."

"See! Even that! I'm wondering if you really mean it, or if you're just saying what you think I want to hear to get me to forgive you.

I know that's a horrible thing to say, but I think you deserve to know the truth. If we try to rekindle our friendship, you should know that's what you're up against.

We can't just go back to what we were. Too much has changed."

Foggy voice sounded desperate, and his heart was slamming itself relentlessly against his ribs. This was as hard for him to say, as it was for Matt to hear. . .and Matt felt like his heart might just shatter into a thousand pieces.

"We can't go back," Matt agreed, his voice slightly choked. "But maybe we can go forward together.

I promise I'll work tirelessly to earn back your trust. I'll show you that this time will be different. I won't keep you in the dark. I'll be honest.

I know you have no reason to trust me, not yet, but give me the chance to show you. Please."

There were tears sitting in his eyes, and he nearly sank to his knees to show Foggy just how serious he was about his pleas, but he didn't think that would be well-received. Perhaps his beseeching tone had already been too much, since Foggy let out a harsh scoff as Matt finished.

"You play dirty, Murdock. Sending dinosaurs. Making that wounded duck face. How could I ever deny you?

I'll give you a chance. I'm not promising that I'll trust you, but I'll give you a chance."

Despite trying to keep his voice hard, Foggy's fondness shone through, and Matt breathed easier for the first time since they had started their conservation.

"Thank you, Foggy," he said sincerely.

"Yeah, yeah," Foggy dismissed, waving a hand in front of him. "Now are you done here, or should I let you get back to it?"

"I could be done."

"Let me walk you home?"

"Gladly."

Foggy offered Matt his arm, perhaps out of habit, since he now knew that it wasn't necessary, but Matt took it gratefully anyway. Things between them had been severely strained, maybe even broken, but they would get better. Matt would make sure of it. He would make sure Foggy knew just how much he cherished him, and he would earn back his trust; one hard-fought truth at a time.


	8. Flying Forward with a Plastic Pterodactyl

Matt ran his hands carefully over the small, plastic herd of dinosaurs on Foggy's desk, letting his mind wander back through the years as he felt spiked tails, thin, plastic wings, and sloping necks beneath his fingertips. He lingered on the most recent addition, a stegosaurus with a slightly flawed tailed, that Matt had handed Foggy as they drank from paper cups to celebrate successfully closing the Fisk case.

That case had almost broken them. They had lost two good friends, and there were times where Matt wondered if it would cost him everyone he held dear. He'd been afraid, and wanted to go after Fisk alone to try to protect those he loved, but Foggy wouldn't let him. Faithful, true Foggy insisted they work together, each doing their part, and he'd been right. They used Karen's investigative skills, the law, and a little vigilantism and they'd helped justice be done.

Now the firm of Nelson and Murdock was considered defenders of the downtrodden and one of the few trustworthy law firms in Hell's Kitchen, or all of New York City for that matter. Clients were pouring in, even if many of them had to make alternative payment plans. They were doing their part to improve their little corner of the world, and Matt loved it.

He also loved the renewed closeness between him and Foggy. Being honest wasn't easy. Matt still went out most nights, and what he did still wasn't safe. He often worried he might drag Foggy down with him, (and prayed every night that he wouldn't), but he kept his promise. He told Foggy the good, the bad, and the just plain insane, and despite his worry, Foggy seemed to appreciate Matt's candor.

The casual touching, that had so much been a part of their relationship before, was back, but it seemed different. Matt knew some of it had to do with Foggy wanting to be sure he was real, safe, and whole. He would be lying to himself if he pretended not to notice how his nights out frayed his friend's nerves. But it was more than that. There was a hesitant tenderness that Matt thought might be an invitation, though perhaps it was just a question asking whether or not Matt wanted the contact at all now that Foggy knew he didn't need to be as tactile to communicate with him.

That was the problem. Matt always second-guessed himself where Foggy was concerned. It was hard for him to know what was there, and what he merely _wanted_ to be there.

That was why he was left standing there, turning over a tiny pterodactyl in his palm, wondering if he should leave it on Foggy's desk chair as he had planned. The note he had written to hang around its small neck sat heavily in his pocket. It could lead them to the next logical step, or it could undo them. 

Matt had thought that reminding himself of where they had been, and how far they had come, would give him courage; but it had only filled him with fear. Despite his want, he didn't know if the potential loss was worth it, but he would need to decide soon. Foggy usually came into work early, and being caught lingering around his desk would probably be considered creepy and weird.

 _I have to try,_ he told himself resolutely as he deposited the small, plastic messenger on the seat of the chair, and carefully hung the painstakingly written note around his neck. (Since Foggy had discovered the tub of dinosaurs, Matt had stopped having other people write the notes for him. As a result, the messages were shorter and harder to read, but he knew that Foggy appreciated that he had dropped the pretense.)

Then he walked out of Foggy's office, only a few minutes before Foggy walked through the front door.

"Morning, Matt. You're here early," Foggy commented with surprise. "Didn't you go out last night?"

"I did," Matt answered simply.

Being truthful didn't mean supplying details he wasn't asked for.

"Quiet night?" Foggy probed.

"Not really. Four muggings, a drug deal gone bad, and some information from a middle man in a prostitution ring that I've been working on bringing down."

Foggy sighed.

"No rest for the wicked, I guess."

"Are you calling me wicked?"

Matt tried to make it a joke, but it fell flat.

"No, but if the wicked never rest, then I suppose you can't either if you're planning to stop them."

"Something like that," Matt said around a chuckle. 

Foggy didn't join him in his laughter. He wasn't joking. He was concerned.

"Matt, if you keep burning the candle at both ends, you're going to burn out. 

I don't mind if you don't come in until ninety-thirty, or even ten-thirty after a long night of fighting crime."

"But you're here by seven-thirty almost every morning! That's if you're not here at seven!

What time is now? Quarter to seven? We don't even open until eight!"

"I like to get an early start."

"You hate getting an early start, Foggy! You used to call any class that started before ten-thirty 'ungodly early.'"

"In college! I've grown up a little since then!"

"Foggy, I know why you come in early. I know that you're doing the majority of the paperwork for both of our cases, and that's not a load you should have to carry. I should be able to pull my own weight."

"But it's what I can do! I can't do what you do at night. I can't back you up like that, but I can do your paperwork so you can at least get enough sleep to not be sloppy and slow out there.

It's just division of labor. You punch bad guys, I do paperwork."

"Foggy . . ."

Foggy sighed again, and suddenly a heaviness filled the room.

"Please, Matt, just let me have this," he pleaded. "I'm starting to understand why you do this, and I'm not going to ask you to stop, but I worry about you . . .and I hate that there's nothing I can do. You're out there in danger, every night, and I can't do anything to stop it.

This is something I can do. Please let me."

"Alright," Matt agreed.

"Good," Foggy approved, then he clapped his hands and rubbed them together before saying, "Alright, so, you're here, and as you pointed out, we don't open for another hour, so, we should go get breakfast. . . .maybe at the bakery down the street?"

"Sounds good," Matt agreed easily.

He would gladly go anywhere to spend more time with Foggy, (and the bakery's famous cinnamon rolls didn't hurt either).

"Great! They have these new caramel brownies . . . ."

"For breakfast?"

Matt raised an eyebrow, and was met with a soft chuckle.

"Why not? It's a special occasion. How often do Nelson and Murdock get breakfast together these days?"

Matt felt a pang of guilt, but he knew Foggy was joking, so he decided to just go with it.

"You say that, but I think you're just looking for an excuse to have chocolate for breakfast."

Foggy scoffed and laughed some more, holding out an arm for Matt. Years of habit were hard to break. Matt didn't say anything though, he liked being close, so he took the offered elbow, and they began their journey.

"As if I need an excuse for that. Waking up alive is enough reason to have chocolate for breakfast.

You should try it sometime."

"Heathen! You won't convert me to your hedonistic ways."

"But we have _brownies_ , Matty! Gooey, moist, delicious brownies. How can you resist the dark side when the baked goods are so good?"

"Because the pure, angelic cinnamon rolls on the light side are so much better."

"Cinnamon over chocolate?! You, my friend, have no taste!"

Foggy led them through the door into the bakery, and guided them to the line.

"Should we get something for Karen?" he asked softly; his tone suddenly more restrained.

"Doesn't she like their orange-cranberry scones?" Matt tried. "I think I smelled her eating one earlier this week."

"Hmm . . . I think so. . .how does she take her coffee, again?"

"Black, two sugars."

"Right. Did you smell that too?"

Matt nodded.

"Wait . . .That was totally one of your moves in college, wasn't it? Making your conquest a cup of coffee just to their liking based on what you could smell?

I always thought when girls raved about your amazing coffee-making skills that it was some sort of weird euphemism, but they were really talking about coffee, weren't they?"

"They were . . .but when they thought I 'guessed' what they liked they were more likely to come back. Think it was fate or something."

"You're awful! . . .so, black, two sugar, huh? . . .are you planning to seduce our fair Karen? I thought I noticed some flirting between the two of you."

"What? No seduction plans. No flirting. Just strategic planning. 

If we ever manage to piss off Karen, we're going to need a way to apologize, or she'll destroy us. Knowing what to get for 'I'm sorry' coffee and breakfast pastries seemed like a start." 

"If you say so."

" . . and . . . actually, there's someone else. Well, there might be."

"What do you mean 'might be'?"

"They haven't exactly responded to my request yet."

"'Your request?' What, like, Internet dating?"

"No."

"So you asked them, and they said they had to think about it?"

"Well, no. They don't really know I asked yet."

"Is that because you haven't? Is this still a theoretical request?"

"Not exactly . . . "

"You know what, I give up! This is too complicated to follow. . . .this shouldn't be rocket science!"

"Sorry."

"No, it's fine. . .bet she's hot though. They always are."

"Beautiful," Matt both agreed and corrected. "Absolutely gorgeous. The most beautiful person I've ever met."

"Even now, I still don't know how you can tell."

"It's like I told you before. There are many ways to see."

~~~~~

When Matt and Foggy returned to the office, they gave Karen the coffee and scone they'd brought her, (which seemed to buy them quite a bit of goodwill), and then retreated to their respective desks.

Matt had barely settled in his chair when he heard a soft gasp, followed by hurried footsteps making their way into his office.

"Matt, does this say, 'dinner at 8:00?'" Foggy asked tentatively.

"Yes?"

"I'm the 'someone else'?"

"Yes."

"You want to go to dinner with me? Not like we usually do, but on a date?"

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me?"

"Didn't I already say yes to that?"

"I'm just making sure. This morning you made it sound like were pursuing some ideal woman, or maybe an ideal man, since you didn't specify gender.

Either way, it really didn't seem like you were talking about an unfashionable, chubby lawyer with a fondness for eating chocolate for breakfast. I mean, there's no way I'm 'the most beautiful person you've ever met.' Unless your definition of 'met' is 'lived with for a minimum of three years' or 'opened a law firm with' . . . .in which case, yeah, but there really isn't much competition."

Rambling was Foggy's go-to defense mechanism. Matt knew that. He also knew that underneath his bravado and 'fake it 'til you make it' attitude, Foggy was deeply insecure. That didn't mean he liked it. He wished Foggy knew just how beautiful he was from Matt's perspective.

"'Ideal' is subjective, and you're my ideal. Everything about you . . .it's just right. Your voice, your smell, your laugh, your heartbeat, your body; everything about you screams 'home.' You're my home, and nothing and no one is more beautiful than that."

Foggy snapped his mouth shut. He was clearly shocked, so Matt decided to try again.

"There's no one else I would rather spend time with. No one else I would rather listen to. No one else I would want to hold onto and never let go of. What I feel for you goes beyond friendship, you can be sure of that. 

I meant what I said, and I meant to ask you. So do you want to get dinner tonight, and see where this goes?"

"Yes," Foggy whispered. " . . .Matty . . .you know I feel the same way, right? 

There's no one else I would rather spend time with either, and I've felt more than friendship for you for a long time. As far as I'm concerned, you're pretty much perfect. Well, I could maybe do with a little less danger, but I'll cope."

"So it's a date?" Matt asked with a cautious grin.

"It's a date," Foggy confirmed.


	9. An extended metaphor through plastic

Foggy and Matt's first date wasn't really all that different from any dinner they'd had together before. They laughed and talked easily as they ate, seeming to exist in a world all their own. The familiarity of the the situation made Matt realize that their 'platonic' bros' nights out had never truly been platonic. They both had always been harboring secret feelings for each other, and that likely had been why they had always felt such a closeness that the world seemed to fade away when they were together.

The one difference, was that when the night was over, Matt walked Foggy home and kissed him goodnight in front of his door. The kiss was fairly chaste, with just the slightest hint of less innocent possibilities, and lasted less than a minute. It took all of Matt's restraint to leave it at that, but he had waited this long to ask Foggy on a date, he could move slow and do this right.

Heart pounding from even their short, sweet kiss, he bid Foggy good night and walked home. He touched his lips half a dozen times in the short walk. He would never be able to give this up. One kiss, and he was hooked. A mere taste of what could be, and he couldn't imagine life without it.

His certainty that he needed Foggy like he needed oxygen only grew on their second date, but he was torn. Part of him felt that they should move slow, build a solid foundation, take their time. Confessing his undying love for Foggy on their second date wasn't exactly in line with that slow and steady methodology. However, Foggy had said that he loved Matt multiple times while they were arguing. He'd admitted to loving Matt for years. Was it really fair that he didn't know that Matt felt the same?

In the end, his fear won out. He gave Foggy a slightly longer, deeper kiss at the end of the night, but then he left without trying to turn the kiss into anything else, or making any confessions.

Things changed on their third date. They were walking through Central Park, hand in hand, and taking turns describing it for the other. Matt had just finished describing the way a young couple sitting on a bench together were whispering the most ridiculous, cheesy sweet-nothing's to each other, being sure to give exact quotes for some of the worst ones, and Foggy was chuckling softly as he leaned a little closer to Matt.

"Should I be taking notes?" he joked. "Are ridiculous, cheesy lines what do it for you? Is this your way of telling me I don't say enough gooshy, romantic things?"

"Not at all. Please don't take any pages out of their book," Matt laughed in return.

"But snugglekins, don't you want to hear about how you're the cheese to my ham in the ham sandwich of life?"

"Foggy, that's awful! I think even their lines were better than that!"

"Would you rather be the Han Solo to my Princess Leia? Or the Wesley to my Buttercup? 

Although I don't relish the idea of being the girl in either of those situations, your first costume was very Dread Pirate Roberts-esque, and I could totally see you Han Solo-ing me at some point. . . .on the plus side, at least Princess Leia was pretty badass."

"'Han Solo-ing'?"

"Yes. 'Han Solo' can be used as a verb. Accept it."

"Even if I did accept that blatant misuse of the English language, I would never 'Han Solo' you."

"Really?"

Matt could hear Foggy's eyebrow raise as he spoke, and his skeptical tone was unmistakeable.

"Foggy, I love you. I've loved you for years. I would never trivialize you saying that you love me by saying 'I know.'"

"I think you're just repressed enough you might . . . .wait, what did you say?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

They stopped on the path, and their lips met briefly in a short, sweet kiss. Then Matt pulled backed, reached into this jacket pocket, and pressed something into Foggy's hand.

"What's this?" Foggy asked as he looked down into his hand, though Matt was pretty sure he'd already guessed as soon as he felt the texture of the small lumps of plastic.

"Can't break tradition," Matt answered simply.

"There's two, and they're fused together."

"Yeah, I'm not exactly sure what caused them to melt, since they were the only two stuck together in the entire tub, but somehow it happened.

Originally, I was kinda annoyed, because I couldn't get them apart. I tried, but it seemed like I would have to break them to separate them, and even if I could get them apart in one piece each, they would still have an obvious imprint from the other. 

So I decided it wasn't worth it. I put them away, and I just thought I'd never use them . . .but they seemed oddly appropriate for this occasion."

"Is this your way of saying that we're stuck together?"

"No . . . I just . . . I . . ."

"Because, if it is, that's pretty clever. I think I'd have to agree that any attempt to separate us would probably only led to us being broken. Well, at least it would break me . . .and you've definitely left a lasting imprint on my life."

"It really wasn't meant to be that deep. I just thought two dinosaurs stuck together would be a cute, if not silly, way to say 'I love you.'" 

"You really should've taken credit for the whole 'extended metaphor through plastic' thing. It would have been more impressive."

"I thought you wanted me to be honest?"

"I do."

"So that's what I'm doing . . . .you're right though. Being separated from you would snap me in two."

Foggy squeezed his hand lightly, and kissed his cheek.

"I guess we'll have to stay together forever then."


	10. The Bloody Dinosaur that Wasn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer wait, longer chapter. . . . Now with more angst! (Is that good or bad?)

Matt held his cane between his hands in a death grip; a small, plastic T-Rex squeezed between his left palm and the cane. The hard plastic seat underneath him was uncomfortable, but he hardly noticed. All he noticed was the sick feeling in his stomach, the pounding of his heart, and the waves of guilt that mercilessly pounded into him again and again.

How could he have been so selfish? How could he have let his desires overshadow the obvious? Why did he let himself believe he could have any of this? He was fooling himself, and it would only lead to people getting hurt. . . .it had led to Foggy being hurt.

He rolled the dinosaur in his palm as he mentally recounted all his sins. The worse part was, he had had every sign that something was going to happen. He just let himself believe that he could protect Foggy. That somehow, none of what was happening would matter, because he would keep Foggy safe. Prideful foolishness.

He squeezed the small plastic toy tighter, it's little claws digging deeply into his hand. The small sting of barely-there pain grounded him slightly. Focusing him in the moment, before he loosened his hand, and his mind drifted back again.

Rumors had begun to flow through the criminal underbelly that Fisk was running Ryker's. That he was calling the shots there, and soon he would be back out on the streets stronger than ever. 

At first they were just whispers, but they gained strength over time. They became a constant hum, so Matt had to know. He visited Ryker's one day, to discover if the rumors were true.

It was the truth. Matt had stirred the pot while talking to Fisk, trying to get a reaction, and the guards turned the other way as he pounded Matt's head into the table. Then, the not-so-powerless man threatened Foggy by name; full name. It was enough to shake Matt to his core, but once again, everyone in the room pretended not to notice.

Later that evening, Matt had told Foggy what had happened, but his partner seemed unmoved. He agreed that it was bad that Fisk was running Ryker's, and that if they could find a way to intervene they should, but he confidently told Matt that they shouldn't worry about the threat. 

_'He just wants to scare us, and stop us from doing anything. He's a bully, and bullies try to use fear to control people . . . .we can't let him intimidate us,' Foggy had said._

Matt had agreed, and they had moved forward with their lives. They went to work. They went on dates. Matt went out on patrol at night as Daredevil. Everything went on as normal.

Then Matt caught someone following Foggy on his way home. 

At the time, he thought he was stopping a mugging, but he should have known better. He should have realized that the man he stopped wasn't just waiting for Foggy to move to a more out-of-the-way location so he could rob him. He should have known it was a sign of things to come, but he didn't put the pieces together. He didn't ask the right questions. He assumed the easiest answer was the correct answer, and it had cost him dearly. . . .it could cost him everything.

He squeezed the small plastic lump in his hand again, sending up a quick prayer that his negligence wouldn't come with such a steep price, and then forced himself to remember why he was here. He had failed, and he needed to face that failure.

Yesterday, he had returned home from patrol, only to find an empty apartment; a rarity since he and Foggy had moved in together. (He had asked him to move in a little over a month ago, by presenting him with a brontosaurus with a key hanging around its neck. Foggy had appreciated the gesture, but called it slightly silly considering he already had a key). Yet Foggy was nowhere to be found, despite the late hour, which was extremely concerning.

There was no note, no voicemail, and no text message telling Matt where he was. There was also no answer when Matt tried to call him. Nothing to suggest this was just an innocent outing. 

On the other hand, there was nothing out of place; no signs of a struggle. No blood and no acrid scent of fear. Nothing to indicate that Foggy had been hurt or taken against his will.

Where was he?

Matt scoured the apartment for clues. Foggy's shoes, phone and keys were gone, but his wallet was on the dresser. 

The phone wasn't so strange. Foggy carried it on him wherever he went while Matt was out on patrol. The shoes meant he had left the apartment, and the keys meant was expecting to need to let himself back in, but the lack of wallet meant he wasn't going far or expecting to need money or ID.

As Matt continued his search, he had realized that all the trash bins were empty. Putting the pieces together, he quickly realized Foggy must have gone to take out the garbage.

Having found something to pursue, he pulled on this shoes, and made his way down to the dumpster. Part of him hoped he would find Foggy safe and sound, having just descended to throw out the trash as Matt came home, but he knew that was unlikely. 

Instead he found what he knew was a far more likely situation; signs of a struggle, and small splotches of Foggy's blood spilled on the pavement like coppery drops of rain. 

Foggy was not there. He had been taken. (Matt tried to take comfort from the fact that Foggy had been alive when they took him, but it did little to soothe the ache in his chest.) 

Where was he taken? ( _They couldn't have gotten far, but which way did they go?_ ) Why? ( _Because of you, moron. To get back at you._ ) By whom? ( _Fisk . . .or any of the other dozens of people you've managed to anger. You have quite the knack for making enemies. Too bad you don't have the same knack for protecting the people you love._ ) What did they plan to do with him? ( _Nothing good._ ) ~~Was he still alive?~~

Matt wasted no time in starting his search. Every moment Foggy was out there, he was in danger. He could be getting hurt; ~~he could be killed.~~

He strained his senses. He listened for a familiar voice; for a well-known heartbeat. He tried to find any trace of Foggy's scent. He searched, and he searched, and for hours he came up empty.

Then he heard a blood-curling scream. A scream that nearly stopped his heart dead in his chest with both its intensity and its familiarity.

Foggy! 

He ran. He vaulted rooftops. He leapt into the fray. His fists flew, and his feet lashed out, until every last person who had dared to play a part in taking Foggy was lying unmoving on the floor.

His fury was far from spent when he finished, but continuing to beat the unconscious men would not help Foggy. It would not stop the bleeding that was filling the air with the coppery scent of Foggy's blood, (distinct even among the heavy scent of all the other blood that had been shed by Matt's fists). It would not ease Foggy's labored breathing. Most importantly, it would not calm and comfort the man he loved, whose body betrayed just how hurt and scared he was despite the brave front he tried to maintain.

Not that Matt was able to provide much comfort. Foggy's forced cheerfulness in the form of weak rambling woven through pained, hard-fought gasps was too much for him. Tears sprang to his eyes, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides before he grabbed onto Foggy's hand with all the desperation he felt. 

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, but couldn't find any words. His brain screamed that it was wrong that Foggy was hurt, and worse that despite the rapid, weak flutter of Foggy's heart, or how hard it was for him to breathe, that _he_ was the one trying to comfort _Matt_.

By the time the ambulance arrived, (which was far too long by Matt's reckoning), he couldn't tell if his heart or Foggy's were in greater danger of giving out. The pain in his chest was so intense that he wondered if _this_ might actually be what killed him. Physical pain he could face, but the mere thought of life without Foggy . . . .

Worse yet, was leaving him when the paramedics drew closer. Staying as Daredevil would likely mean his arrest, but leaving felt like his destruction. Like tearing himself in half, and leaving the better part behind, without the reassurance that the pieces would ever be reunited or that he would ever be whole again.

Somehow he managed to stay in the shadows as Foggy was taken away from him again; only mildly comforted by the fact that this time it was by people who wished to help. Somehow he made his way home, and managed to box away the devil for the time being. Somehow he made his way to the hospital, and managed to ask about Foggy without becoming hysterical.

All that careful restraint faded the minute he reached the waiting room. He sat heavily in one of the uncomfortable chairs, and wept.

Around him, people turned their heads, some seeming to struggle with whether or not they should try to comfort him, as they wavered in their seats. Some of their heart rates increased with discomfort at his open display of emotion. Some clucked or hummed sympathetically before turning away, and others made annoyed noises as if showing his pain so clearly were some sort of crime. Matt noticed all of them, but their reactions hardly registered. They didn't matter. Only one person did, and he was fighting for his life.

"Family of Franklin Nelson?" called a young doctor.

Matt stood slowly, squeezing his hand tight around the plastic toy in his palm, and focusing on keeping his feet below him. He felt far from steady, and thought he might be shaking.

"I'm Dr. Khulia," she said in a softer voice, now standing directly in front of Matt.

"Matt Murdock, I'm Foggy's partner," he replied weakly.

"Mr. Murdock, your partner is currently in surgery. 

He was badly beaten, and has several broken bones, including broken ribs which punctured and collapsed one of his lungs, and severe internal bleeding. 

We were able to repair and re-inflate the lung, and we're doing our best to control the bleeding. 

We'll give you updates as more information becomes available."

"Thank you."

She nodded, seeming to forget that he couldn't see the gesture, and turned to walk away.

He squeezed his hand around the tiny T-Rex again, and shakily returned to his chair. 

There was reason to hope. Foggy was still alive, he was still fighting, and the doctors were doing their best. He could survive this. He _would_ survive this. He had to. If he didn't . . . .

No, Foggy would live. He would live, and then Matt would let him go. He would let Foggy get on with his life without any of the dangers that Matt selfishly imposed on him. 

He loved Foggy, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him; he had been serious when he told Foggy that losing him would snap him in two . . .but if he truly loved him, he would do right by him. Which, in this case, was keeping him safe. Even if it meant tearing out his own heart, and losing his better half, to do so.

His hand tightened around the small figurine he had instinctively grabbed from his father's trunk earlier in the evening. This would be the last one. The last dinosaur he gave Foggy. It seemed oddly appropriate that the first one he had given him was a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and so was this last one. It had an odd sort of symmetry. It was fitting.

Matt briefly wondered what color it was. Was it a dark color to contrast the sunny yellow of the first one? Was it also cheerfully bright; a twin brother to the one given so many years ago?

He supposed it didn't matter. Either way, it was his goodbye. Once it left his hand, and passed to Foggy's, they would be done. Just thinking about it broke his heart, but he knew it was right.

He couldn't protect Foggy. He kept dragging him into danger, but he couldn't keep him safe. After such a failure, he didn't deserve him.

"Mr. Murdock?" questioned a soft voice.

Matt shook his head in surprise. He'd lost himself in his thoughts for who knows how long.

He forced himself to refocus, and quickly realized that the voice belonged to the doctor he had spoken to earlier.

"Yes?" he asked nervously.

"Your partner is out of surgery. We had to remove his spleen, but we believe we were able to stop all of the sources of bleeding.

He is still unconscious, and probably won't awake for another few hours, but you can go see him. . . . I mean . . . ."

"Thanks," he cut her off before she could descended into flustered apologies. "Could you take me to him?"

She nodded, then realized her error and said, "Um, yeah. Sure."

She led his hand to her elbow, and then guided him down a hall toward the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Foggy's heartbeat, finally audible again, still keeping its steady rhythm, despite everything that had happened. Maybe slightly elevated in rate, but still strong, and still there. Still keeping the best man he knew alive.

By the time the doctor helped him into the chair next to where Foggy lay, he was nearly in tears. Foggy was alive. Despite all the danger Matt had put him in, he had lived. He had been lucky, and Matt was so very grateful.

He resolutely closed his hand around what was to be his parting gift, and reminded himself that he wouldn't be gambling with Foggy's life again. This would never be repeated. Foggy would be safe. No more kidnappings. No more beatings. No more near-death experiences brought on by Matt's carelessness.

"I'm so sorry, Foggy," Matt whispered as he took Foggy's hand in his, (if his time with Foggy numbered in the hours, he was going to make the most of them). "You deserve better, so much better than me . . .and you'll get it. I promise. I won't let you get hurt again. I won't be the weight dragging you down."

He spent the next couple of hours drinking in every detail about Foggy he could. Memorizing the feel of Foggy's hand in his. Storing away the sound of Foggy's soft snores. Committing to memory the cadence of Foggy's heart. Hoarding away every last piece of Foggy he could, because soon that would be all he had left.

"Matt?" 

"Foggy!"

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Foggy's forehead, tears already springing to his eyes as he thought of what he needed to do next.

"Foggy, I'm so glad you're okay."

"The pain in my body takes issue with the term 'okay.' I'm not like you. I can't walk around after taking a beating and pretend that I hardly feel it . . . Oh, hey. Don't cry . . . I'll be fine. In fact, I'm pretty sure they're giving me the good drugs, so I'm not really in that much pain. I'm just saying, I'm going to feel this for a while."

"I'm sorry . . .this is all my fault."

Matt choked back a sob, and Foggy struggled to a sitting position, reaching out for Matt as he did. The hitch in his breath, and the spike in his heart rate, spoke of just how much the action hurt him, but despite his earlier claims, he seemed not to notice the pain as he gently wrapped up Matt in his arms and softly shushed him.

"Sh, sh, sh. No, it's not. This was _not_ your fault, Matt."

He struggled to free himself from Foggy's arms as abruptly as he dared given Foggy's injuries. Then he pulled back, and turned his face towards Foggy's; setting his features in stubborn determination.

"It is. I put you in danger. Me, being who I am, makes you a target.

I put you in the line of fire, and I arrogantly believed that somehow that would be okay because I could protect you . . .but I couldn't. I couldn't protect you, and it almost cost you your life, and . . ."

"Matthew . . ."

Foggy's tone was warning. He seemed to understand where this was going, and he wasn't happy at all.

"What? It's true!"

"Maybe, maybe not . . ."

"It's absolutely true! And that's why we need to go our separate ways."

"What?!

Look, Matt, maybe you put me in danger, maybe I would do that to myself anyway, it's not exactly like you had to twist my arm to take the Fisk case, but either way, it's no excuse to run away."

"Run away?! You think I'm running away?!

You almost died, and it was my fault!

I think keeping my distance is the best thing I can do for you!"

"I think running away is exactly what you're doing!"

"I'm protecting you!

Foggy, if anything happened to you . . . If you . . .if you . . .died. It would break me."

"Right back at you, but you don't see me trying to preemptively leave you."

"It's different!"

"How?! The only difference I can think of is that you've almost died on me four times in the last six months, and this is the first time for me."

"You kept count?"

"Of course I kept count! I couldn't forget if I tried, and believe me, I have! I still have nightmares!

So don't act like I don't understand how you're feeling now. I do! I know exactly how scared you are, but I'm okay.

You rescued me. Then a team of doctors helped patch me up. I'll be fine. 

They're monitoring every heartbeat and every breath. If anything goes wrong, there's a whole team of medical professionals available to help almost instantly. Plus, I'm on pain meds and antibiotics. I have every advantage. Far better than you usually have. You don't need to worry."

"Of course I'm worried! It wouldn't make a difference if you had the best doctors in the world taking turns personally sitting vigil over you until you're completely healed; if you're hurt, I'm going to worry!"

Matt's chest was heaving violently as he neared hyperventilation. His heart felt like it was trying to escape from his chest, and he was starting to feel dizzy.

"I understand. Really, I do," Foggy said gently, seeming to notice Matt's stress and trying to calm him down.

He gently took Matt's right hand in his, running his thumb over the back of it in a slow, soothing arc.

"But you still fail to see the difference," Matt commented with a sad shake of his head.

"The only differences I see are in the minutiae. 

So I was beaten, and you were stabbed, or had your lung collapse when there was no one there to help but me . . .which I think might count for two by the way, since I was afraid _I_ was going to kill you by not following Claire's instructions correctly . . .or you were poisoned by a ninja's blade, or were shot. The details change, but it all boils down to one of us almost sleeping the big sleep."

Matt flinched at the flippant word choice.

"But I chose this. You didn't. You got dragged into it by me. I didn't give you a choice.

That's more than a detail, and it makes all the difference. I knowingly risk my life, but you almost died because I pulled you into the crossfire."

"I might not have had any say in you starting your nighttime hobby, but I knew who you were when I agreed to date you. I went into this with my eyes open, and I chose it anyway. I knew there were risks, but I decided they were worth it. So don't act like you forced my hand, or I didn't know what I choosing. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into, and I would make the same choice again!"

"Why?! I could get you killed!" Matt asked nearly hysterically, his voice breaking around a sob.

"Because I love you. Any danger I face with you by my side is worth it, because I have the man _I love_ by my side," Foggy answered simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"What if it's not worth it to me?"

Matt whispered the words, feeling cornered and desperate. He was losing his resolve, but he had been so sure that leaving Foggy was the only option. At least the only one that was honorable and doing right by the man he loved. He had to try, at least once more, to drive his point home.

Foggy froze, reacting to the question as if he had been struck. He swallowed hard, and then responded slowly, his resolve growing with each word.

"If you don't love me, I'll leave. It won't be easy, but I won't force anything on you that you don't want. I love you too much for that . . . .but if you're just scared, then you won't get rid of me that easily.

Yes, something could go wrong. Your nighttime activities could get you killed, or me. Either of us could get hit by a bus, or get cancer, or be in some freak accident. Life is uncertain . . .and yes, you doing what you do might add an element of risk, but it doesn't change the fact that even if we both die of old age, life is short. 

Life is short, and the good things in it, things like love, make it worthwhile. So I'm going to hold onto the good things with both hands. I'm going to hold onto us with all of my might, and only death, or you telling me that you don't love me anymore, will make me let go.

So, do you love me?"

Matt released another broken sob.

"Yes. Maybe if I were a stronger man, I could lie to protect you, and send you away, but I can't. Yes, I love you. 

I love you so much. More than I ever knew it was possible to love another person. So much that sometimes I wonder how I ever managed to live without you . . .and I don't know how I would ever survive if you left.

If I could keep you locked up and safe, I would, but that wouldn't be right. I can't keep you from living your life . . .and it's not my choice to make . . .so I thought, if I could just remove myself from your life, even if it almost killed me to do it, I could at least remove the biggest danger in your life. . . Because I am the greatest danger to you. Don't try to argue that I'm not. . .but once again, I almost made a major decision for both of us without consulting you . . ."

"That you did."

"I also severely underestimated how stubborn you are."

"That, I have no explanation for. I thought you would have known by now, but apparently you forgot . . ." Foggy's joking tone trailed off and was replaced with concern. "Matt, your hand is bleeding."

Matt turned his attention to the stinging in his left hand, and realized that he had been clutching the dinosaur so tightly during their conversation, that its little pointy pieces had bitten into his hand and drawn blood.

"Oh," he replied softly.

He gently opened his hand, revealing the tiny, plastic perpetrator to Foggy.

"That was meant to be a farewell dinosaur, wasn't it? One final gift?"

Matt nodded numbly.

"Well, since we're not saying goodbye, and since it's now covered in your blood, I say we throw this one away. 

I don't think I'll ever forget this, with or without a reminder, not that I would mind if I did."

He plucked the small toy from Matt's wounded hand, and tossed it decisively into the small trash can next to the bed.

"There! It's for the best. The dinosaur that wasn't, for the breakup that wasn't.

Besides, I could never love anything that made you bleed," Foggy commented as he pressed a quick kiss to Matt's gouged palm. 

"Sap," Matt commented teasingly, trying to navigate them away from the heavier topics they had just discussed.

"Guilty as charged," Foggy agreed, peppering several more quick kisses onto Matt's hand.


End file.
